


But He Wasn't Okay

by lovnelymoon



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Also Minho is slightly an asshole in the beginning, Angst, Anorexia, Bang Chan is a protective friend, Body Dysmorphic Disorder, But Jisung won't let him, But he tries his best to learn and help, But very soft and loving, Denial, ED Twitter, EDNOS, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorder Recovery, Eating Disorders, He doesn't understand at first, Heavy Angst, Idk about the ending yet, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jisung has a crush, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Man I'm a mess, Minho Has An Eating Disorder, Minho is relapsing, Minho just wants to be alone and/or die, Other relationships are mentioned/implied, Purging, Recovery, Restricting, Seo Changbin is Whipped, Starvation, Weight Gain, What else is new?, but also very confused, but he gets soft later, disordered body image, eating disorder relapse, mentioned - Freeform, minsung centric, oh and numbers are mentioned just so you know, oof i think that's all, past trauma, restrictive eating disorder, weight fluctuation, weight loss, worried Jisung, you get it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-11-18 13:08:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovnelymoon/pseuds/lovnelymoon
Summary: "Honestly, fuck this! You being in love with me doesn't mean I'm instantly cured!"»»————-　×　————-««or: In which Minho suffers from EDNOS, but when an annoyingly cute boy wins his heart, his life turns for the better. Or does it?





	1. × Prologue ×

»»————-　×　————-««

Muffled voices, breathing, quiet words, whispered in the privacy of the dulling darkness surrounding everything, consuming everything but the scene unfolding before his eyes. It was a scene he knew all too well, and he started tearing up while screams and cries filled his ears, filled his head, filled his mind. 

All he could see was her delicate figure and her face, expressing nothing but incomprehensible fear and pain, her mouth opened for a silent scream that hurt more in his ears than the most earsplitting noise. She looked as if she had seen hell in the eyes of the monsters climbing out of the abyss opening up in front of her; as if she was facing the imminent end of all she ever knew. She was inconceivably horrified.

And the voices filling his head were roaring, raging, blaring their all too familiar tune of screams and accusations, profanities and cursing, a never-ending melody of hatred and pain in his head, noises that he wasn't able to block out, sounds that had accompanied him for half his life, long enough to be his best friends and companions. 

Hence, he stopped fighting as he saw her lifeless body, shattered and broken, and he knew that there was no hope for a future without the image of her inanimate figure on the ground steadily clouding his mind.

»»————-　×　————-««


	2. Of A Disastrous Lunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read: Major Trigger Warnings for this fanfiction. Please read the tags carefully and only proceed if positive none of the mentioned topics will harm you or your mental state. I care deeply about your mental health and I do not condone reading about eating disorders for the sake of triggering oneself, no matter how tempting that seems.
> 
> This work is purely based on me projecting my issues onto characters and coping by writing about those. If, at any given moment, you feel uncomfortable or endangered by the contents of the work, please proceed to leave immediately. 
> 
> Trigger Warnings for:  
> \- Eating Disorders (Mainly restrictive)  
> \- Suicidal thoughts  
> \- Depression  
> \- Anxiety  
> \- Body Dysmorphic Disorder and Disordered Body Image

»»————- × ————-««

Minho groaned. This was a disaster. He could see his friends, laughing and fooling around, while eating happily. He could see Changbin stealing glances at that one guy a few tables away, Chan and Woojin laughing over some dumb joke Changbin had made, and the frown on Chan's face as he noticed Minho.  
  
Minho sat a few tables away, watching the unfolding scene cautiously. He had decided against eating with his friends for today, as he wanted to avoid the questions and worried glances. Of course, they noticed that he was eating less again. And, of course, he noticed the knowing looks they shared, the awkward coughing and the rising tension every time Minho ate with them.  
  
To avoid all that bullshit, Minho sat quite a bit away, a silent observer of their interactions and the longing stares Changbin sent towards one of the 11th graders' tables. Minho knew he was crushing on that one boy, a foreigner with an odd accent which tended to annoy Minho. Plus, said foreigner knew of Changbin's crush too. Changbin made it obvious, honestly. However, Felix, the boy Changbin was so hopelessly in love with, was seeing someone else. He wasn't gay, and he was dating a girl from 10th grade, Seonmee.  
  
Minho groaned in frustration. Seeing Changbin torturing himself while watching Felix and the girl was disheartening.  
  
He looked at his plate and went back to dissecting his sandwich. He had already sorted out every ingredient, and right now he was organising them. Each element got its little pile: the sliced pickles, tomatoes, the celery, the chunks of cheese, the bread itself.  
  
He scraped the sauce off of the toast, trying to get rid of it, but the slices were soaked with it. Fixated on his work, Minho squinted his eyes, trying to dab away the sauce with a serviette. It didn't work.  
  
Why did he pick this one again? He could've just went with a dry bread roll, but no, he had to choose the sandwich, greedy as he was. _Gross._  
  
He chewed on his upper lip when suddenly, someone sat down beside him. Minho put the napkin down and looked up, expecting Chan, or maybe Woojin, but it was neither of them. He raised an eyebrow in surprise as he recognised the boy.  
  
It was a classmate of that Felix-guy, an 11th grader. Minho didn't know his name, nor anything else about him, but they'd briefly met when Changbin once had introduced them to his classmates.  
  
Even though Changbin sat with Minho's group of friends for lunch break, he was in 11th grade and just too awkward around his crush to sit with his classmates. Over time, he grew comfortable with the 12th graders, and now he was more part of their clique than he was part of his own.  
  
Minho eyed the boy beside himself. He looked happy and cheerful, and Minho was already slightly annoyed. Not that he didn't want him to be in a good mood, but Minho wasn't, and he was eating, so he wouldn't have minded if the boy just left him alone.  
  
"Hi!" the younger said, smiling widely.  
  
To be honest, it looked kind of adorable. Minho noticed his slightly chubby cheeks and smiled a bit.  
  
"You're Minho, right? I'm Jisung, we've talked once."

"I remember."  
  
"Why are you sitting alone? Have you argued with your friends? You usually always sit with them," he babbled.  
  
Minho looked at him, slightly awkward. Had the other been stalking him?  
  
"Oh, sorry, that sounded weird. Still, I've noticed that you sit with Changbin usually, but not today. Did something happen?"  
  
Minho stared at him, suddenly annoyed.  
  
"That's none of your business, kid," he huffed.  
  
"Hey! just because I'm a grade below you, doesn't mean I'm a child. I was merely trying to be nice." He furrowed his eyebrows.  
  
"Yeah, but I don't need anybody to be nice to me. I'm eating, so leave me the fuck alone already."  
  
The boy looked at him, a hurt expression on his face, before standing up.  
  
_Great, Minho. The boy cares for you, and you're behaving like a bitch. Really, great._  
  
Minho looked after him as he left and sighed, before going back to the procedure of segmenting his sandwich.

»»————- × ————-««

"Minho?"

The spoken-to pushed the schoolyard's gate open and walked through.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, turning around.

"I saw you talking to Jisung earlier. What did he want?" Changbin asked while scurrying to his side.

"Oh, he was just curious whether we had an argument or something. He wanted to know why I wasn't sitting with you guys."  
  
Changbin coughed awkwardly before nodding.  
  
"And? Why weren't you?"  
  
"You know I needed some time alone to eat peacefully, Changbin," Minho sighed. They were on their way home; he and Changbin walked together ever since he first sat at their table two years ago, and Minho usually quite enjoyed chatting with him. Today was an exception.  
  
"You know that you can always talk to me, right?" the other said, making Minho groan. "Changbin, we both know I'm eating less, but I'm still doing fine. Really. Don't worry about me."  
  
Changbin grunted, unsatisfied.  
  
"Minho–"  
  
"Leave me alone with that topic, okay? I'm doing perfectly fine. I finished therapy last year because they cured me. There's nothing to worry about."  
  
"Okay, okay. Though, Jisung seemed upset. Please don't tell me you were rude?"

"Maybe, a little. Just, honestly, what is that boy even thinking? I bet he was stalking us or something. Creepy as fuck."  
  
"Jisung isn't like that. Besides, I think he once mentioned that he finds you attractive," Changbin said after a moment of contemplation, shooting Minho a slight smirk.  
  
"Yah! Seo Changbin! Just because I'm gay, doesn't mean I'm attracted to every male on this planet, and you should know that," he responded, annoyed. "Also, I definitely do not like that Jisung guy. And, whatever he said, he probably doesn't truly like me either⏤I'm fat, anyhow."  
  
Changbin shook his head in amusement.  
  
"Sure. All I was saying is that Jisung seems like he has a major crush on you, so don't think of him as a stalker. You know how people in love are."  
Oh, Minho knew. He just had to look at Changbin to see the best example.  
  
"Besides, you're not fat, Minho. You're probably the skinniest of us all," the younger grunted.  
  
Minho didn't respond.  
  
_He's lying. You are fat, and you know it._  
  
He sighed.  
  
"Whatever, how did history go? You mentioned you'd hold a presentation in it earlier."  
  
They walked through a long alley lined with oak trees. It lead to the city district where the upper middle class and high society of the town lived. The high school was in a different neighbourhood, so they always walked through this alley to get home. Changbin was actually from a wealthy family, while Minho's mum just happened to get a small apartment in that part of the town because she was friends with a lessor.  
  
Changbin started ranting over the presentation and how awful it went and that he totally wouldn't pass, but Minho soon zoned out. Not that he wasn't interested, but something else was occupying his mind.  
  
Had he eaten the tomatoes for lunch? He couldn't remember. He remembered throwing away the cheese and one of the two bread slices, and he also remembered eating the pickle slices and the celery, but what about the tomatoes?  
  
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why did he forget what he had eaten? What the fuck was wrong with him?  
  
_You're fat and lazy, that's wrong, you prick._  
  
Minho sighed and tried to focus on Changbin who was ranting in annoyance on his sociology teacher. When did he start talking about him? Wasn't he only a second ago talking about his history presentation? Shit, he needed to pay attention more.

»»————- × ————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey~ 
> 
> As you can see, this will be a fanfiction about Minsung: Minho x Jisung of Stray Kids. The main topics will be a) love and b) eating disorders.
> 
> I do not write this for people to purposely trigger themselves or for pro-anas to get inspiration/motivation. If you are here for one of those two or a similar reason, please leave immediately.
> 
> I do not take any responsibility for health matters. If you notice that this story is triggering you in any form or is bad for you or your health, please also leave immediately. I am writing this to get stuff off my chest, to share my feelings with others, and because I love writing angst. This book is in no way meant to encourage or romanticise eating disorders.
> 
> In case you notice a grammatical, punctuation, or spelling error, you can feel free to point it out to me. Constructive feedback is also always highly appreciated. However, if you think you need to make explicit, triggering, or encouraging comments regarding diet and eating disorders, then I will feel free to delete your comments.
> 
> Please also take notice that Minho has EDNOS/OSFED in this story. [EDNOS: eating disorder not otherwise specified, OSFED: other specified feeding or eating disorder].
> 
> This basically means that he doesn't suffer from a specified eating disorder such as Anorexia Nervosa, Bulimia Nervosa, Binge Eating Disorder, or other specified disorders. EDNOS/OSFED disorders typically link many symptoms of different other eating disorders, or the patient's symptoms might fluctuate over time, or something similar.
> 
> You might not have heard of these terms, but actually, over 30% per cent of all eating disordered patients in treatment, and an estimated 50%+ of all eating disordered patients worldwide are suffering from EDNOS/OSFED. These eating disorders are valid and not rare.
> 
> I do not own any of the characters, and the plot line is fictional and only fictional. I do not claim for anything written in this book to be real.
> 
> My DMs are always open if you need to talk!
> 
> -Loxe♡


	3. Of An Undesired Re-encounter

»»————- × ————-««

Water. Relief was all Minho knew as the cold liquid ran down his throat, washing away the pain and the faint aftertaste of acid and blood, the burning sensation his fingers had left after repeatedly hitting the back of his throat.  
  
Minho coughed and shot a swift glance into the mirror, noticing the familiar view, the aftermath of pushing his fingers down his throat until every memory of food filling up his stomach vanished into the air, again and again. Swollen eyes, red and puffy, a running nose and reddened cheeks. Minho scoffed at his reflection.  
  
_Teary eyes? Really, Minho?_  
  
He laughed grimly when suddenly, a timid knock on the door could be heard.  
  
"Minho, you in there?"  
  
"Yes, mum. why?" the boy answered as he quickly grabbed a towel and started cleaning his face.  
  
"You're running late, honey. Should I take you to school?" his mother asked, making Minho frown. He was indeed quite late now, and he couldn't really risk being late for maths once again, but he also didn't want to skip his fifteen-minute walk to school. Unsure what to do, he quickly decided against the latter option.  
  
"That would be nice, thank you."  
  
"Okay, but hurry up now, sweetie."  
  
Minho sighed. He was tired, having had an approximate two hours of sleep despite taking some sleeping pills, and he sensed that this day was bound to be completely and thoroughly horrible.

»»————- × ————-««

Minho had been right. Apart from school being the usual boring crap, lunchtime had approached way too fast for his liking, and Changbin had dragged him with him towards their usual table. Except that not only Chan and Woojin but also that annoying Jisung-guy and a few other 11th graders sat there, too. Changbin sat down, urging Minho to do so too, but he refused. He was angry.  
  
"Oh, come on, Minho. just sit down and eat with us, it's not that big of a deal, really," Changbin groaned, obviously annoyed by the elder's refraining behaviour.  
  
Minho looked at Changbin, appalled.  
  
"What the fuck, Changbin? I'm definitely not eating with so many people, especially when I only know like half of them. What are you fucking thinking?" he yelled, not waiting for an answer but instead grabbing his plate and leaving the group of boys behind, quickly approaching the empty table he had sat at yesterday.  
  
He put down his stuff and exhaled, trying to relax his stiffened limbs a little. Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his shoulder, making him shoot up and turn around instantly, only to get greeted with a face he didn't want to see at all.  
  
"...Jisung?"  
  
"Sorry to, uh, bother you, hyung. It's just, Changbin hyung told me to give this to you," he handed Minho his black smartphone, their hands brushing against each other for a split second.  
  
"You forgot it at our table," he mumbled, seemingly nervous. Minho nodded.  
  
"Okay, thanks."  
  
He sat back down and turned to his food, assuming the conversation as finished. However, it seemed like Jisung had other plans.  
  
"Mind if I sit with you?" the boy suddenly asked, making Minho sigh. He didn't need company, especially not when he was eating. Except, right then he was at a point where he had stopped caring altogether. So instead of sending the other boy away, he just shrugged and went back to cutting the toasted bread slice that he had separated from his sandwich into 16 small pieces.  
  
He could feel the younger's piercing stare as he was scrutinising Minho's precisely acted out movements and the all perfectly equal bread squares on my plate.  
  
"Can I, uh, ask you something?" he uttered.  
  
Minho looked up at his face, examining his features. The younger was radiating discomfiture, and he wondered whether it would be a question about his eating habits.  
  
After not getting any further response by him, Jisung apparently decided to do so, anyhow.  
  
"I'm sorry if this is too personal, but are you, like, anorexic? Hyunjin once–"  
  
"No," Minho cut him off. Jisung looked a little intimidated, but he didn't care.  
  
"I am not anorexic. I was in treatment for EDNOS until last year, but I'm cured."  
  
Jisung didn't believe him, at least that's what his critical look at Minho's trembling hands said.  
  
"Also, I was once anorexic, for, like, my first year of having an eating disorder, but it quickly developed into something different," Minho added in a neutral voice, trying not to sound affected. He hated that everybody automatically thought he was anorexic or bulimic just because he had an eating disorder.  
  
_You aren't good enough for anorexia anyways. You are barely good enough for such a half-ass ED like EDNOS._  
  
Minho pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on the boy in front of him. Jisung still didn't seem convinced, but honestly, Minho didn't need the approval of some random guy he had essentially just met. He huffed in frustration and continued to take apart his sandwich.

»»————- × ————-««


	4. Of Unpleasant Surprises

»»————- × ————-««

"Oh c'mon, you're not deaf," Minho groaned in annoyance. Finally, the door in front of him opened, revealing Chan in sweatpants and a loose violet shirt, grinning widely.

"Aye, Minho! Come in, mate. Almost thought you weren't coming."  
  
Minho smiled weakly at his enthusiasm and stepped inside, following him into his small but cosy apartment. It was one of their monthly sleepovers where he and the guys would stay up and watch horror movies until the next morning. The guys; Chan, Woojin, and Changbin; had already gathered on Chan's extraordinarily large couch⏤it occupied the whole living room, leaving space for nothing but the TV⏤and were happily snacking on chocolate. Minho smiled softly and sat down with them, immediately easing up on the soft grey cushion.  
  
The guys were discussing which movie to start with when suddenly the doorbell rang, making Minho jump, startled.  
  
"Did you guys order pizza or something?" he asked warily.  
  
Chan shook his head, smiling.  
  
"Nope. We wanted to wait until the others are here, too."  
  
Minho looked at him, not understanding.  
  
"The others?" he asked in confusion. Nobody ever joined them; they were the only close friends each of them had, so about whom was he talking?  
  
Chan's shoulders sagged. "Changbin, don't tell me you didn't tell him," he sighed, making Minho look over to said boy, who was buried under a stack of pillows, smiling nervously.  
  
"I don't know, I kinda forgot? I guess? Besides, it's not like he would've come if he knew, anyhow."  
  
"Great, really, Changbin," Woojin said from where he stood next to the TV.  
  
"Okay, listen, Changbin was supposed to tell you, so you wouldn't be uncomfortable or something. Because we've hung out with Bin's classmates so much lately, Chan decided to invite them too. Don't worry, not all of them are coming, but I think Hyunjin and Seungmin and⏤what was his name again⏤Jisung?"  
  
Minho let himself fall back into the couch and groaned audibly.  
  
"What the fuck? I thought this was our thing, guys? Why would you invite people we barely know? How am I supposed to feel comfortable now?" he hissed, clearly pissed off.  
"Also, Changbin, how could you not tell me? You know how anxious I get around new people."  
  
Changbin sighed and sat up, properly facing Minho.  
  
"Listen, I'm sorry. I just really forgot. Also, I hoped you could give the others a chance. Jisung genuinely cares for you, you know?"  
  
"Okay guys, let's not discuss this right now. Changbin, I honestly expected more from you, but the boys are standing in front of our door, and we can't uninvite them now regardless. Woojin, get the popcorn, please."  
  
With that, Chan left towards the front door, leaving Changbin and Minho alone as Woojin already disappeared into Chan's kitchen. Minho sent a few deathly stares into Changbin's direction, but apart from that, they kept silent, listening to the short conversations held in the hallway.  
  
Only a minute later, and the three newcomers entered the room, looking around curiously, before sitting down on the couch. Minho noticed a guy he hadn't met before⏤was it Seungmin?⏤, Hyunjin, and Jisung, of course. The latter sat down beside Minho, instantly irritating him. Why couldn't he leave him alone?  
  
_That's your punishment for being a fat and lazy pig._  
  
He closed his eyes, already distressed. Wasn't this supposed to be a night to relax and have fun? Well, he sure felt nothing of that.  
  
Woojin returned with three big bowls of popcorn and two bags of crisps and put them down between them.  
  
Minho sat at the side, the rest of the boys to his right. Jisung was chattering with Hyunjin beside him, and that Seungmin-guy was talking with Chan and Woojin, leaving Minho and Changbin the only ones not involved in any conversation. He observed the group, trying to read between the lines.  
  
Chan was unusually quiet, and Minho knew that him being uncomfortable with the boys affected him more than he liked to show.  
  
Jisung seemed nervous. He was fiddling with his fingers continuously, wriggling his legs, and shooting short glances in Minho's direction repeatedly.  
  
Hyunjin seemed excited, merely anticipating the movie probably. He was cautiously eying Woojin and Changbin now and then, but he seemed rather calm.  
  
On the other side of the couch, Changbin seemed down. The boy was steadily letting his eyes wander, gazing over the group, as if he was looking for something or someone. Maybe he was disappointed Felix hadn't come.  
  
Finally, Changbin spoke up, and Minho was almost thankful for it. He wasn't in the mood to talk, and he didn't like the idea of Jisung glancing at him every twenty seconds either.  
  
"So... are we gonna watch the film, or...?" the younger said, sounding a little annoyed, which made Minho chuckle. Jisung looked at him, apparently surprised he could express positive feelings, but he didn't care for once.  
  
"Yeah, let's get the movie started. What did you guys decide on?" Minho added, almost smiling.  
  
"We thought we should start with a classic. How about The Exorcist?" Woojin answered, making him snicker. He knew that it was one of Woojin's favourite movies of all time, and they had already watched it a thousand times, but why not? It was a classic for a reason, after all.

 

»»————- × ————-««


	5. Of Unexpected Cuddles

»»————-　×　————-««

The movie was good, just as expected, but the three newbies were seemingly slightly uncomfortable with horror movies, or at least it looked like that. While Chan and Woojin were happily munching their popcorn, Minho could literally feel Jisung tense up beside him every time something merely slightly scary happened, and it honestly quite amused him.  
  
Throughout the movie, Minho's mood had gradually gotten better, leaving him in an almost positive atmosphere towards the ending. Although he was clearly aware that Jisung was steadily moving more and more into his direction, he didn't exactly mind it. He personally just happened not to be bothered by horror movies, but that obviously wasn't the case for everybody. Minho chuckled at the younger's timid, almost anxious expression; _he is cute_.  
  
Though, he banned those thoughts from his mind immediately. Instead, Minho focused back on the film which was reaching its grand finale, when he suddenly felt Jisung, right by his side, clinging onto him as if his life depended on it. Minho stiffened, a little irritated, but also nervous.  
  
_He can feel all your fat. All those disgusting rolls on your stomach, he can feel them all._  
  
Minho jolted a little from the thought, but Jisung's worried and sorry look was enough to calm him down. _He's just scared_. Jisung whispered a quiet apology, but Minho quickly reassured him that everything was fine. The smaller boy had shifted away from Minho a little, but seeing as it was apparent he was still scared, he pulled him back and gave him a sympathetic smile.  
  
Minho relaxed and placed an arm around the younger's waist, trying to make him comfortable. Jisung seemed a little unsure, but by the time the next scary scene was approaching, he was hugging Minho, no, he was more or less half on top of him, burying his face in his red hoodie and squeaking in fear. Minho chuckled, and the visible parts of Jisung's face turned crimson.  
  
Minho smiled at his cuteness. Jisung was undeniably adorable. He honestly hadn't expected him to be this scared, he was such a lively and talkative person, but, personally, he didn't mind at all.  
  
Minho caressed his back, trying to calm him a little, and the younger eventually raised his head from the red fabric, his face still a little pinkish, and his eyes warily observing the TV screen.

»»————-　×　————-««

  
The movie had come to an end, and Jisung was apparently relieved, seeing as he was soon back to his bubbly, lively self. They decided to take a short break so the ones more affected by the film could recover.  
  
Meanwhile, Chan and Changbin were already arguing about which movie to watch next.  
  
A bitter smile played around Minho's lips as he watched Jisung chattering happily with Hyunjin, apparently having forgotten his existence already. But it was okay. They weren't exactly friends, anyhow.  
  
After roughly twenty minutes of bad jokes coming from Woojin, ironic but cringy fake-flirting⏤or was it?⏤between Hyunjin and Seungmin, and constant complaints by Changbin about being bored, the group finally decided to watch the second movie of the night, IT.  
  
Against Woojin's vigorous protests, they settled on watching the remake⏤Changbin didn't like the older version⏤and soon they were half an hour into the film; the sky had turned pitch black outside; and Jisung was, once again, snuggling into Minho's torso. To be honest, Jisung's cute side was almost more entertaining than the film itself, and Minho found himself staring at the smaller boy quite a lot.  
  
He sincerely started to accept the fact that he was attracted to him. Just a little. Not more, not less. Jisung probably wasn't even gay, so Minho planned on sparing himself the drama and merely admiring him a little. He didn't plan on going anywhere further, and he was perfectly fine with that.  
  
_He's probably too disgusted by your fat anyway, so not like you had a chance._  
  
The thought caused him to groan, making Jisung's head shoot up.  
  
"Everything okay?" he asked quietly, trying not to bother the others. Minho smiled, almost a little touched by Jisung's caring attitude, before nodding.  
  
"I'm perfectly fine, don't worry," he whispered back, making the other relax and sink back into the soft fabric of Minho's red hoodie. He enjoyed the warmth radiating from Jisung's lean figure and subconsciously started to draw abstract little shapes with his fingers on the younger's waist. Only when Jisung giggled almost inaudibly, seemingly ticklish, Minho realised what he was doing and how comfortable he had become with him.  
  
He smiled to himself and continued caressing Jisung's waist through the boy's grey shirt.

»»————-　×　————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.  
> Most of these are prewritten so I'm able to upload quite quickly. I'm afraid it won't be going that easily in the future, but that is no issue yet.  
> Do have any feedback on my writing or the plot? Let me know! <3


	6. Of More Cuddles

»»————-　×　————-««

The night proceeded, and they had reached the fifth movie when Minho caught soft snores coming from Jisung's direction. Somewhen around 3 a.m., the mentioned boy had sneaked an arm around Minho's waist and tangled their legs, leaving him warm and comfortable. Minho had fondled his head and played with his hair for the last two hours, and now it was 4:32 a.m. 

Woojin was sleeping peacefully, his head on Chan's chest, and both Hyunjin and Seungmin were sleeping too. One of them snored soundly, but Minho couldn't exactly make out who it was, and he didn't care too much.

He looked over to Chan and Changbin, who were whispering softly. 

The movie the group were watching right now was okay, but nothing Minho would have watched again. The fact that he had already forgotten its name said it all.

Minho stroked Jisung's back, even though he knew the other was asleep; it was just a habit of his. Chan laughed inaudibly at some joke by Changbin, making Woojin wake up, startled. 

"Sorry, buddy," Chan muttered gently, still laughing a little. 

"What time is it?" Woojin asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly. 

Chan displayed him the nearest smartphone, Minho figured it to be Changbin's, to which Woojin almost punched him in the face. 

"Boy! I'm literally blind! I can't see anything! What the fuck was that? Did you buy a fucking miniature sun or something, because that surely felt like I was looking into something like that," he grumbled, and Minho felt Jisung moving at his side. 

"Shhhhh! Shut the fuck up! The others are sleeping," he uttered, half laughing. 

"That was a cellphone you absolute fucking walnut," Chan muttered, making Changbin and Minho laugh. The fact that his friends had invited the younger three without informing him was long forgotten, and Minho genuinely was feeling quite good right now.

His gaze wandered towards the smaller boy next to him, who was back to quiet sleep, his hair a little ruffled, and his lips curled into a soft smile. His shirt had slid up a little, revealing parts of his lean stomach and his slender hips. 

Minho felt his cheeks getting hot and quickly averted his eyes, but the image of his visible hipbone had burned itself into his mind.

He's skinny and beautiful and cute, everything you aren't. So stop thinking about a boy you don't deserve and fucking lose weight, you pig.

He swallowed harshly and pulled down the boy's shirt a little, covering his skin. 

Minho was feeling a bit too warm in his pants and the thick hoodie, so he untangled their legs and took the clothes off carefully, trying not to wake up the sleeping jisung. He was merely wearing a shirt and boxers now, feeling comfier immediately, even though he had to cover up his thighs by pulling the boxers down quite a little. He eyed Jisung, contemplating whether the boy might be uncomfortable or sweating in his clothes. His shirt was probably fine, but he was wearing ripped skinny jeans, and Minho doubted those were comfortable. He considered taking them off for him, but the boy would most likely wake up, and besides, that would be a little weird.

While Minho had had my inner conflict about Jisung's pants, Chan had turned off the movie and stood up to get another blanket for himself. Minho looked over at Changbin, who seemed a little down. 

"You okay, bro?" he whispered, knowing he was probably thinking about Felix. Changbin slightly nodded, not even bothering to fake a smile. 

"You know I'm just not in the best mood because of him lately."

Minho nodded, feeling sorry for him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay. And I don't want to wake up the others." The black-haired boy smiled faintly. Minho only reluctantly returned the smile, feeling a little bad for not being able to help the younger. 

However, he then remembered the question regarding Jisung's pants. He sighed, making a decision. Carefully, he stood up and opened the smaller boy's belt, before slowly pulling the pants down. 

Minho could hear Changbin laughing huskily from his corner of the room, and he laughed too, trying to keep it quiet. It was a notably awkward situation, and Minho knew that Changbin was taking photos to blackmail him later, which didn't make that any better.

He was trying to get the jeans off of him quickly, but it was more difficult than he had estimated. 

Jisung stirred in his sleep when Minho had halfway finished the procedure, but luckily, his eyes stayed closed. Minho's fingers brushed against his warm skin, sending shivers down his spine, but he tried not to get distracted.

Finally, the cloth slid over his feet and fell onto the floor, leaving Jisung in boxers and t-shirt as well. Minho smiled and tried hard not to stare at the boy's legs, but failed miserably. He was beautiful.

He lay back down beside him, and Jisung, surprisingly still asleep, snuggled against him, using him as a pillow. 

Minho smiled as he looked down at him, but the position soon turned uncomfortable, so he, once again very carefully, pulled him between his legs, prompting the other's back to rest on his chest. 

Jisung kept on sleeping; at this point, Minho started wondering whether he was in a coma; but the boy contently sighed when he began stroking his arms. 

Minho pulled a blanket over them, just when Chan came back, with a stack of pillows under his arm. Minho signalled Chan to hand him one of them, and a smile flashed over the older boy's lips as he saw him and Jisung, cuddling. Minho could feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks, so he quickly averted his gaze, stuffing the pillow under his back and relaxing into the soft cushion of the couch.

Only moments later, while still hugging Jisung gently, his eyes fell shut, and his mind wandered off to dreamland.

»»————-　×　————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself. Honestly, I don't even know why I haven't been updating.  
> Anyways, I hope to be more active now, but I can't make any promises :((
> 
> Also in case you haven't noticed, there tend to be some perspective errors in here (Initially, I wrote all of it in first person), so if you notice any, feel free to point them out to me so I can fix them. Thanks!
> 
> -Loxe


	7. Of Silent Affection and Crisp Bread

»»————-　×　————-««

Jisung felt warm and safe, peacefully embraced by whoever lay behind him. He could hear soft voices and giggles, but he was too tired to process what was going on, and he didn't exactly care that much either. Instead, he shuffled farther into the other's tight embrace, burying his face into the soft fabric of whatever clothing the other was wearing.

Jisung stayed like that for quite a while, just enjoying the other's warmth and his scent⏤it reminded him faintly of coffee and vanilla⏤and relaxing in his arms. After what felt like years, simply spent in each other's comfortable presence, he felt fingers grazing over the exposed skin of his arms, caressing it, drawing complicated patterns and complex figures. Growing even more comfortable, he exhaled slowly, sinking further into the other's arms.

He sighed contently as the soft touches wandered to his shoulders and neck, enjoying whatever the other was doing.

An extended period of him dozing off and waking up again only to stay in that state of half-sleeping passed, and the occasional conversations and laughs around the two of them turned louder and more frequent, but he didn't mind. He smiled peacefully, thinking of past days when he had fun with his friends, or when he was relaxing, like now.

Suddenly, someone grabbed his shoulders, and he was violently shaken, making his eyes shoot open instantly. In front of him, there stood Hyunjin, shaking him roughly.

"Jisung! Minho, Jisung, wake up! It's time for breakfast, you lovebirds, and Chan told me to wake you up, so move your asses to the kitchen." He laughed, leaving to the others. Jisung sat up slowly, looking around, a little confused. Only when he felt solid arms on his waist, the boy noticed that he was lying between Minho's legs, who was still hugging him, and he could feel his cheeks heating up instantly. The other hummed a "Good morning," his eyes still closed.

Jisung freed himself from Minho's arms, only to notice his jeans lying on the floor. He couldn't remember taking them off; it dawned upon him that Minho had probably taken them off for him⏤and his cheeks grew even redder. He stood up, feeling Minho's sleepy eyes watching him. He turned around and smiled weakly at the other, trying to hide his blush.

Minho chuckled, and Jisung could feel butterflies in his stomach at the sound.

Are you dumb? He isn't interested at all, so why are you developing feelings? Are you trying to get hurt?

Jisung shook his head and left towards the kitchen, unaware of Minho's admiring stare.

»»————-　×　————-««

Twenty minutes later, the boys were all gathered around Chan's kitchen table, the majority of them excitedly anticipating the food.

Chan and Changbin were quite good cooks, and after every of their movie nights, they'd make breakfast, including scrambled eggs, bacon, baked vegetables, french toast and pretzel rolls scalloped with cheese.

Minho stared at the fat that was dripping from the molten cheese, nausea building up inside of him.

"Bon appétit!" Chan exclaimed, making Minho chuckle. The others started digging into their food, enjoying the hearty meal.

Minho, however, chose to only observe the shimmering drops of oil dropping from the foods; every single one of them swam in a pool of grease and fat. Even the vegetables were shining from being coated in oil. He frowned at the thought of all the calories, when Chan, who sat beside him, suddenly heaved a massive portion of scrambled eggs onto his plate without even asking for his approval.

Minho hissed in discontent. "I'm not hungry, hyung."

Chan smiled, saying, "Well, eat it anyhow. It's good for your body."

_It's not. It makes you fat. Even fatter than you already are, pig._

Minho shook his head, signalling him to stop it. "I'm not gonna eat it, Chan."

The other sighed. "Okay. But at least eat something. We have crisp bread?"

Minho nodded hesitantly, and Chan immediately rushed to some cupboard, pulling out a package of high-calorie crisp bread. Minho sighed in defeat. Next time he would bring his own food again.

Chan gave him three slices, making him frown, but he wasn't interested in an argument. Groaning, he grabbed the cutlery, determined to cut the crisp bread, but after Chan sent him a threatening glare, he put it down and carefully bit into the first slice, chewing cautiously.

It tasted like flour, dry and monotonous, and after chewing the first bite precisely 48 times, Minho was unbelievably glad to swallow it and get rid of the taste. He felt Jisung's worried look piercing into his skin, but he ignored it, focusing on counting the times his teeth collided, chewing mechanically.

»»————-　×　————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! Leave some feedback if you feel like it. Lots of love <3
> 
> -Loxe


	8. Of An Old Friend

»»————- × ————-««

Minho swallowed and closed his eyes, nervous. Inhaling deeply, he stepped onto the scale⏤a few seconds passed; his eyes focused on the continually rising digits on the display until they came to a halt. He exhaled, closing his eyes, before opening them once again.

54.2kg. Was this reality?

He had gained, once again. Trembling, Minho stepped off the scale, before stepping back on, checking the numbers another time. They remained the same. Fucking 54.2kg. What was the hell wrong with him?

_You're a disgusting pig, that's wrong._

He stepped off again and got into his clothes, a diet coke hoodie and some short pants, his mind still circling around that staggering number.

He hadn't been able to weigh himself at Chan's, hence not expecting a number that high to show up. Minho hadn't eaten anything except for two slices of that damned crisp bread today, and he hadn't had much yesterday with the guys either. Where was all this weight coming from?

He sighed and looked at the lock. It was 12:17 p.m., and his stomach was screaming for food. Slowly, he was getting nauseous. But he couldn't eat yet: First, he had to write down his weight and calculate his BMI.

Minho yawned as he left the bathroom, heading towards his room.

He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, being greeted by ED Twitter immediately. He decided to write a short entry about his mental condition and another one about his feelings towards Jisung⏤not mentioning names of course⏤before closing the tab and quickly typing in the formula for his BMI: 54.2 ÷ 1.72^2.

He stared at the result, holding his breath in anxiety. 18.3207. Minho's jaw fell. Oh, dear lord, this was worse than he had imagined. Way worse. He was back to a healthy weight. He wasn't underweight any longer.

_Oh my God._

Minho could feel his eyes tearing up as he stared at that number. Fucking 18.3. What was the hell wrong with him? How could he let himself go that easily?

He had weighed 52.3kg yesterday morning, at what point did he eat so much that he put on this fucking heap of weight? He had just had a few apples and one tiny slice of pizza yesterday! Minho was horrified.

Distressed, he fell back into his chair, closing his eyes in desperation. This couldn't be real. What had he done? This was outright horrendous. He had to do something. Now.

But what options did he have? Exercise? For the love of God, no. He could start a fast or a new diet of sorts. One of his mutuals on ED Twitter, Elaine, had mentioned some new diet practices of them and the great achievements they were experiencing. But they wouldn't⏤not over their dead body⏤share tips; that was an unspoken rule within the community.

Still, Minho opened Twitter again, scrolling through his timeline, looking for someone who was making progress. Most of the people weren't doing well, but he didn't let that discourage him. People were raging about Japanese ED Twitter and their extreme anorexics, complaining about their personal binge-purge cycles, posting ED memes and the occasional body-check or daily intake counts. Nothing that interested him.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard apprehensively. Should he message Mel? He didn't want to ask her for help again, having done precisely that far too often in the recent past.

_Do it, coward. It's the only way you're going to regain control._

Harshly sucking oxygen in, he lowered his fingers onto the keys, started typing her URL. A couple of usernames and their respective icons appeared on the screen, hers being the third. Her account was represented by a skeleton meme, a faint reminder of the time in October when he had first messaged her. Mel. That had been almost two full years ago. He had been anorexic back then, or trying to go back to that phase. He couldn't remember. Mel had pulled him out of his binge-purge cycles, had helped him become a better version of himself.

Minho didn't know much about Mel, apart from her being 18, anorexic, and bedridden due to her eating disorder. And the fact that she actively helped pro-anas by giving tips and sending meanspo. ~~(Meanspo being mean posts resembling people's eating disordered thoughts and tending to insult and shame people.)~~

She was precisely the archetype of accounts they all loathed so much in the ED Twitter community. Another reason why Minho dreaded to text her. He felt a traitor for doing so, every single time.

_Doesn't matter. Nobody cares. Do it, do it, do it._

He clicked on her icon. 'Message.'

_Do it. She's the only one left to help you now._

'hi mel _'_

Her answer arrived within seconds.  
'Min! Hello. Have you been working hard?'

'I tried, really. But...'

'But what? Don't tell me you gained? Do you want me to be disappointed in you?! Are you trying to be funny?! This is a pressing matter, Min, and you need to finally take me seriously. Don't you want to be perfect?!'  
His breath hitched. Of course, he did. So much.

'I'm sorry. I gained. Am 54.2kg now.' Tears clouded his eyes as he hit enter. He hated himself so much for this. Only Mel could help him now, make him do well and make him starve.

But there was no answer. Defeated, Minho stared at the screen, waiting for her to speak up. She had to. She had always been there for him, insulting him and making him give his all. She couldn't leave him alone now.

 _She is. She's abandoning you. Because you're a hopeless case and she knows it. Because you're a fat, undisciplined pig._  
  
»»————- × ————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellomello buddies! Is anybody of you on ED Twitter? I have my phases, but I'm only ever really active in my restrictive relapses. Welp. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. have a nice day!!
> 
> -Loxe


	9. Of Mo Pleasant Surprises

»»————-　×　————-««

His eyes opened swiftly, darkness welcoming his conscience. The orange dial of his digital watch glowed in the dark, cutting through the pre-dawn silence. 3.52 a.m. The birds weren't singing yet.

But Minho had other things on his mind, matters more important than the early hour his body had decided to wake up or the quietly approaching daybreak. Whether it was excitement or terror flowing through his veins, he wasn't sure, but his body was shaking in anticipation. With shaky fingers, he pushed aside the sheets, studying his thighs for a moment, before standing and taking soundless steps into the direction of the door.

Minho knew the apartment well, knew all the creaking boards and steps, the squeaking of his door only concealed by inconceivably slowness when opening it. Weigh-in trips to the bathroom took him long. With his mum being a light sleeper and him never using the toilet at nights, he had to be quiet for her not to wake and get suspicious. Way back in his anorexic phase, his mum had all too often woken up and questioned him randomly walking through the flat. She couldn't know he was going to weigh himself. She would freak out.

It took five minutes at least, but he did reach the bathroom door without any incidents, taking a deep breath as the door clicked shut behind him almost inaudibly. For now, he was safe.

His pyjamas discarded on the floor, Minho stood in front of the scale. The evening weigh-in six hours ago had shown him maintaining the weight of 54.2kg over the day. Would he have lost by now? He had to, didn't he?

Anxiety caused him to take a step back. What if he had gained? His body was fucked up after all. With his thyroid completely messed up after years of chaotic eating, everything was possible.

_Shit. No, that can't be. You did so many squats and jumping jacks yesterday. You can't have gained._

For good measure, Minho used the toilet before he dared to even touch the scale. As he again stood before the metal monster, fear and anticipation burning inside him, heartbeat fast—too fast? It didn't matter—, he couldn't help but imagine the numbers rising.

Always assume the worst. There's only gonna be pleasant surprises and expected confirmations that way.

That was the way he had to think. Surely his weight would be at 55, no 55.5kg now. Sure he had gained tons again. It was okay if he didn't let himself be surprised.

Minho closed his eyes.

_Do it, coward. Step on and check out your failure._

His feet stepped onto the cold metal on their own accord, his eyes remaining closed.

_One, two, three, four, five._

His eyes opened, gaze fixing onto the number. It took his starved brain a millisecond longer than usual to register the meaning behind the numbers. 53.1kg. _What?_

A throaty laugh escaped his throat, only for him to immediately slap a hand in front of his mouth. Shit. Hopefully, his mother hadn't woken up form that.

Still, what the fuck? Was the scale broken?

Minho stepped down, careful to avoid it creaking, climbed back on again, closed his eyes.

_One, two, three, four, five._

53.1kg. He had to hold back from snorting in disbelief. But the scale was accurate, he was sure. It had to be. He'd only bought it two weeks ago, as he replaced the tool every three months to make sure it was precise.

But 53.1kg? This just didn't make any sense. At all.

Yes, he had done some minor workout yesterday, and he hadn't eaten anything more but an apple, but losing over one kilogram just didn't seem realistic.

He stepped down from the scale. Should he buy a new one? He really didn't have much money to squander, but he couldn't risk living with an inaccurate scale either. His toes curled in discomfort at the thought. He needed to know whether it was correct. But how?

 _Not now._ Right now really wasn't the time to go and buy a scale. Or anything else, for that matter.

With a silent sigh, Minho closed the door behind him. On the tips of his toes, he sneaked down the hallway, passing by the open door of his mum's bedroom, stopping for a moment. Her breathing was regular and calm, making him relax. She hadn't woken.

A couple of seconds later, and he was back inside his room. With shaky steps, he covered the way to his desk, making fast work of logging into his laptop and pulling up ED twitter as well as punching the digits of his weight and height into the ecosia search bar.

53.1kg ÷ 1.72^2 = 17.949

He exhaled slowly. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. This... This was great! If the scale was correct, he was underweight again. Warmth spread through his chest, comforting the ever-present sting of his heart. It was the best feeling in the whole world.

He wrote a tweet about how he was sorry for not being online much as well as another one regarding the new reclaim of the 'underweight' title. As if anybody cared on there. But maybe Mel would see his tweet and be proud of him. Perhaps she would message him back.

He closed the tab and logged out of his laptop. He couldn't risk his mum finding it open.

The warmth quickly fading and his bones cold, he stood and turned towards the door, making sure it was locked. Only when he was confident everything was safe, he dared to get into position and started doing squats. It was early still, and he had lots of time before he'd have to get ready. Lots of time to work out.

»»————-　×　————-««

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! So I'e been able to update every day recently?? I haven't been this productive in literal y e a r s lmaooo ---- anyway I haven't written the next chapter yet and I can't promise it'll come tomorrow, but I'll do my best.
> 
> Lots of love!!
> 
> -Loxe <3


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